


Don’t Get Me Wrong, Don’t Think You’ve Got it Made

by Polaris



Series: I’m Not in Love [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: And if you’re listening Jesus I’m sorry too, Double Penetration, Falling in love with your boyfriend is awkward, Gross Ravagers, Hand Jobs, I am so sorry Sean Gunn it was never meant to go this far, Now with EVEN MORE raccoon sex, Oral Sex, Other, Polyamory, RIP Yondu’s pillow, Rimming, Scent Kink, Size Difference, Still not sure if this counts as bestiality, Subdrop, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris/pseuds/Polaris
Summary: Rocket likes Kraglin. He likes fucking him and he likes fixing shit with him and he likes making fun of Quill with him. But it ain't what he's got with Yondu.





	Don’t Get Me Wrong, Don’t Think You’ve Got it Made

They've finally got the _Milano_ repaired. 

Took for-freaking-ever too, since Yondu refused all of Stakar’s offers to help. He's still pissed about that stunt he pulled trying to poach Kraglin, and Rocket can't really blame him.

Although he does blame him for turning down good help and essentially forcing Rocket to do the bulk of the repairs. That's just stupid.

But he keeps his mouth shut, because he doesn't know the history there, and he doesn't quite know how to ask Kraglin about it. He sure ain't going to Yondu and asking him to drag out all his baggage. He knows just enough to know he doesn't wanna know any more.

Kraglin's been prickly as hell about Yondu's old Ravager buddies since it got out that Stakar was testing his loyalty. Rocket can't figure out how Yondu managed to keep Ego a secret from Quill all those years, because he runs his goddamn mouth like nobody's business.

But that might have something to do with Kraglin's methods of interrogation.

“Nooooo...” Yondu hangs his head and whines as Kraglin pulls out again. He's sweat-slick and shaking, hands convulsing on the furs that cover the bed.

Kraglin winks at Rocket and runs a soothing hand along Yondu's flank. “Dunno why you're bein’ stubborn,” he murmurs. “I know you're gonna tell me.”

“I hate you,” hisses Yondu, and he throws an evil look at Rocket. “An’ you. Fuck you— _ah!_ You was supposed t’ help me outta this.”

Rocket shrugs. “Ain't getting between you two. Work it out yourselves.”

Yondu bares his teeth, but he's not whistling. Rocket figures that means he ain't quite as pissed as he's pretending to be.

“Tell me,” whispers Kraglin right in Yondu's ear, and Rocket watches a delicate shudder run through him. Long bony fingers play along the underside of Yondu's dick, and that gets a high whine that devolves into throat clicks when Kraglin takes them away.

Rocket's not sure if he's having fun or not; this started off as a pretty standard weeknight romp, but then Kraglin got it in his head to play Nova interrogator.

Six ruined orgasms later, Yondu's a quivering wreck and Rocket's dick has been totally forgotten.

He's only cool with one of those things. And he don't really give a shit whether Yondu wants to make nice with Mainframe or Krugarr. God knows being a Guardian comes with perks, but if he finds it hard to keep on the right side of the law, Yondu's gonna have way more trouble.

So what's it to Rocket if he wants to sneak off and steal some shit?

Kraglin has a different opinion on the matter.

“Start talkin’,” he snaps, and thrusts back in roughly. It makes Yondu howl, but he just throws a defiant glare over his shoulder. 

“Get me off, an’ I might consider it.”

Kraglin snarls and goes to town, fucking Yondu across the bed until his hands are braced on the wall to keep his face from getting mashed against it.

Yondu's moaning, louder than usual. Rocket glances at the door and hopes this level of the ship is deserted, because he don't care for sharing their business like that. God knows he'd fling himself out the airlock if he ever heard Quill and Gamora getting it on. He debates going for his datapad and reading until they finish. Might be too passive aggressive.

He's berating himself for being an asshole when Yondu comes with a howl that you can probably hear back on Xandar. Great. Now Rocket's gonna get dirty looks from Quill his whole bridge shift.

Kraglin eases Yondu down onto his belly, petting his sides and whispering something in his ear. He tilts to listen as Yondu weakly murmurs back.

Rocket sighs. “And if you'd just asked me I could have told you he was plottin’ with Mainframe and Krugarr to rip off that casino.”

That gets him a pair of sharp looks, although Yondu's ain't as sharp as normal. “Nosy li’l shit,” he mumbles.

“This is more fun,” says Kraglin with a shrug.

“For you, maybe. I been sitting here by myself for the last fifteen minutes.” Rocket glares at Kraglin. 

Kraglin stares back with that hooded look he sometimes gets. His hand glides along the back of Yondu's thigh before he dips a finger into his asshole. It comes out wet with come and lube. “C’mere then. Lemme make it up to ya.”

Rocket scowls. Damn Kraglin for using the smell thing against him. Skinny bastard knows exactly how much Rocket gets off on it. “You're such an asshole,” he mutters, but he crawls over anyway.

Kraglin doesn't crash as hard as Yondu does after sex, and Rocket's content to let Yondu keep pretending that's a Centaurian thing instead of an old man thing. Right now though? Rocket's just glad they didn't both pass out and leave him with a boner he has to take care of on his own.

Kraglin pulls him into his arms when he gets close enough, nuzzling the top of his head before he settles him on his back and nudges his legs apart. “You been awful patient,” he whispers softly.

“Coulda given me something to do,” Rocket bitches, although he's already tense with anticipation. 

Kraglin's response is to lick up the underside of Rocket's dick, twirling his tongue around the head like he's sucking a candy. It makes Rocket gasp even though he knew it was coming.

“Can I count on a blowjob every time you fuck up?” he asks, just to be an asshole.

Kraglin lifts his head enough to smirk. “Can I?” he shoots back.

“I have never done anything wrong in my entire life,” Rocket says, widening his eyes innocently just to hear Yondu snort.

Kraglin breaks and snickers a second later. “You ain't as cute as ya think you are, smartass.”

“Then close your eyes while you suck my cock.” Rocket grins.

A finger up his ass is Kraglin's witty retort to that, and Rocket's toes curl when Kraglin crooks it just right to brush his prostate. He keeps it light, building up the tension until Rocket’s squirming to get his finger where he wants it.

“Quit screwing around! You already made me wait,” he groans, throwing a hand across his eyes so he doesn't have to watch Kraglin's evil grin.

“Jus’ makin’ it good for you,” he says softly, and slurps Rocket’s dick into his mouth.

“ _Fuck!_ You’re such a dick,” Rocket moans, grabbing at Kraglin's hair and holding on as Kraglin begins moving his mouth in time with his finger. He can play Rocket like a cheap kazoo and he's shameless about using all Rocket's favorite filthy shit against him. 

The room smells like their mingled sweat and come. It gets him so hot, shivery and needy, so when Yondu's finger brushes his lips he opens his mouth for it. And then moans like a cheap whore because Yondu knows him too. Rocket laps cooling come off Yondu's fingers and shakes because he's getting filled up at both ends and Kraglin's slurping over his cock and it's so good. 

He comes with a high little animal noise, turning his head away so he doesn't bite Yondu. Kraglin must really have felt bad, because he pulls away after the first spurt and lets Rocket come all over his face. It's a good enough apology for Rocket, especially when Kraglin leans down and closes his eyes so Rocket can lick him clean.

“Okay,” he pants when he's done and Kraglin's flopped down between him and Yondu. “Good enough.”

Yondu snorts, scratching the line of his pouch. “You two’s worse than a couple’a kids sometimes.”

“Right, an’ sneakin’ off t’ do side jobs ‘cause you don't wanna argue is so much better,” says Kraglin snidely.

Yondu makes a face. “Last I checked I was still a free man, Obfonteri. Means I can go run a job if I want.”

Rocket glances between them, frowning a little at the obvious tension running under the surface. He's been noticing it more and more as they settle into routines, and he don't like it. 

Anytime Yondu drops a slavery reference is a time to back off. Kraglin lets his head drop onto the bed without another word and commences to drifting off. Doesn't take him long; reedy snores start up within a few minutes.

Rocket doesn't wanna move, but he ain't sleepy yet either. He looks at Yondu and catches him scowling at the ceiling.

“Cut it out,” he mutters. “You're wrinkly enough as it is.”

Yondu turns his head. “It bother you? Me runnin’ with Mainframe again?”

Rocket considers. “I know you miss ‘em,” he finally says. “I wish you'd pick somewhere that wasn't in Nova space. I got immunity to think about. Means I can't come in after your ass if things go bad.”

Yondu grunts in acknowledgment but mumbles, “ain't gonna need no help if I got Mainframe an’ Krugarr with me.”

“That's like saying I'd be fine with Drax and Gamora,” Rocket points out. “Just because you got a good team don't mean nothin’s gonna happen.”

“Now you're soundin’ like him.”

“Maybe he's got a point. I ain't tellin’ you what to do, but if you're asking, that's my take.” Rocket shuffles over to Yondu's side and curls up against him.

A heavy arm settles across his shoulders. “He's jus’ pissed I didn' spit at Stakar’s feet when we saw him again.”

“Kraglin? Hold a grudge?” Rocket rolls his eyes as Yondu chuckles. “Well, if you're going, then sweet talk one of ‘em into sending over some engineers to help me expand the hangar. I want space for a second ship if Blue decides to come back around.”

“Missin’ your girlfriend already?” asks Yondu with a dirty smirk. “I ain't got big enough titties for ya t’ sleep on?” And he smooshes his pecs together.

“Dude! Gross.” Rocket pushes away in mostly fake disgust. But he lets Yondu pull him close again.

\---

So Yondu goes.

Yondu goes, and takes the _Milano_ when he does. Rocket finds out when he hears Quill's furious bellow from the hangar.

Somehow Rocket had the idea that Yondu would be arranging his own transportation with Mainframe for this job. Apparently that meant stealing his kid's ship out from under him.

Okay, it's kind of funny. 

Quill's face is all red as he pulls up the comms and calls Yondu, and he only gets redder when it goes straight to the answering system. 

“He's ignoring me! He stole my ship and now he's ignoring me! That _asshole!_ ”

Rocket glances over at Kraglin; he's leaning against the wall, purple with the effort of not laughing. He catches Rocket's eye and that's it.

“Oh my god, this is not funny!” Quill looks like he's gonna pop. “You guys are such assholes! You knew he was gonna do this, didn't you?”

Rocket's laughing too hard to answer, bracing himself on the wall so he doesn't fall over. 

Kraglin takes a deep breath to calm down, but just cracks up again when he sees Quill's angry face. “Pete,” he wheezes, “ya sound jus’ like him. Reminds me o’ the time when--”

“Oh!” Rocket grins. “Was this before or after the floating crotch rot?”

“You both suck,” Quill declares, and stalks out of the hangar while they laugh at his back.

When the echo of his footsteps fades away, so does the humor in Kraglin's face. Instead he glares at the empty space in the hangar.

“I'm gonna fuckin’ kill him,” he says flatly.

So there's that.

\---

The job is only supposed to keep Yondu away for a week, so Rocket figures there's no reason to be nervous. Ain't like he's never been without the guy, after all. It's just that he's all but officially moved into Yondu's room. Which Kraglin _did_ officially move into months ago.

When Yondu's there, the three of them all pile into the bed without thinking, and it's fine. But with Yondu gone he's just there with Kraglin. And maybe it shouldn't be weird but it is, still, because Rocket knows full well that they put up with each other to keep Yondu happy.

He likes Kraglin. He likes fucking him and he likes fixing shit with him and he likes making fun of Quill with him. But it ain't what he's got with Yondu.

So when he unlocks the door that night, he's not totally sure what to expect. What he gets is Kraglin sitting there in a pair of holey underwear scowling down at Yondu's datapad.

“He leave a message?” Rocket asks hopefully.

Kraglin makes a disgusted noise. “Naw. He's ignorin’ me just like he's ignorin’ Pete. You should try. He might answer you.”

Rocket's not sure, but he suspects there's an insult in there somewhere. He looks down at his feet. There's a little part of him that likes the idea of being Yondu's favorite, but the sane part of him knows that means competing with Kraglin and Quill. More to lose by winning in that contest.

“You care if I stay in here?” he mumbles, holding his breath. He doesn't know what he'll do if Kraglin says no.

“‘S your room too,” Kraglin says with a shrug, tossing the datapad onto the desk. It takes a second, but he peers at Rocket. “Where else would ya sleep?”

“I—” Rocket looks down again. “Dunno. Thought you got sick of me kicking.” It's true; he kicks in his sleep. Always has. He never gave a shit when it happened in prison, and it's not like it’s every night, but Kraglin bitches about it when Rocket clips him with his claws.

It ain’t the real reason he’s hesitating, but Kraglin doesn’t need to know that.

Kraglin eyes him and then smirks. “C’mere,” he purrs. “Let's make a mess outta his bed.”

Rocket blinks. “You sure that's a good idea? He'll be pissed.”

“Good.” There's something nasty in Kraglin's smile, and Rocket isn't sure he likes it.

“I'm not really looking for revenge,” he says after a pause. 

Kraglin's smirk fades. “No. ‘Course not.” He lays down on his back and folds his hands over his thin chest.

Rocket stares, feeling a canyon open up between them. He's not sure what he did, or if he did anything, but somehow it's falling on him to fix this. It pisses him off more than a little. “Kraglin.”

He gets a grunt in response.

“Why are you so ticked off about him going?”

Kraglin raises his head to give Rocket an incredulous look. “You ain't pissed at him?”

“Not really. I'm kind of annoyed, but mostly because he ain't answering your calls. What's his deal, anyway?” Rocket clambers onto the bed and sits cross-legged next to Kraglin. He scowls at the skinny jerk, annoyed that he knows how to fuck him but not how to talk to him.

Kraglin snorts. “Get used to it. This is the sorta shit he pulls whenever he gets bored.”

“What, fucks off on his own without telling anyone?” Rocket frowns. “How do you do that when you're captain of a huge Ravager ship?”

“By leavin’ the first mate t’ cover for ya,” says Kraglin matter of factly.

So that's it. “Same first mate he won't actually sleep with in spite of practically being married to?”

Kraglin turns his head away. “Same one.”

Rocket swallows. No wonder Kraglin's pissed. He uncrosses his legs and reaches up to unbuckle his jumpsuit. It hits the floor with a muffled thump.

Kraglin turns back to him, frowning a little. 

“Seems like you don't get enough appreciation for the shit you put up with,” says Rocket carefully as he shuffles closer, teasing his fingers through Kraglin's chest hair. He traces a claw delicately around a nipple and watches it tighten, refusing to meet Kraglin's eyes.

“Don't bother me none,” mutters Kraglin, a little breathlessly. He bites his lip when Rocket touches his nipple again.

“Don't it? First he won't fuck you, then he saddles you with Quill and gets you exiled, then he lets Quill screw you over, and _then_ he tops it off by misjudging the crew bad enough that one wrong word sets off a whole mutiny. And after you stuck by him through all that, he runs back to the same assholes who exiled him in the first place. That don't bother you?”

Kraglin rolls over and pins Rocket under him, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Rocket's breath catches.

“Quit talkin’,” says Kraglin, very softly.

Rocket raises his chin, exposing his throat. It goes against every instinct he has. “I say anything that wasn't true?”

“You don't get t’ show up as late as you did an’ think you know everything what came before. Ya don't.” 

“I don't think I know crap about what came before. What I do know is you're pissed now but you don't say nothin’.” Rocket has his hands on Kraglin's chest, can feel his heart pounding. 

Kraglin growls and bends to kiss him, hard. Rocket barely knows what's happening and he jerks back in confusion. His mouth ain't made for that; Kraglin's lips mashing against his don't align at all. Feels weird, and he doesn't think he likes it much.

Kraglin changes tactics and moves down, pressing burning kisses over Rocket's cheeks and neck. He closes teeth around Rocket's throat and Rocket freezes.

Something inside him goes very, very still.

He moans a little, hyperaware of how vulnerable he is. His dick slips out of its sheath to smear a wet line against Kraglin's stomach. 

Kraglin stays where he is, breathing heavy and hot against Rocket's throat. His jaw twitches, like he's giving some thought to biting down, and that makes Rocket tremble like he never has before.

So he likes getting held down, okay? He figured that out pretty quickly, but there's usually something fun about it when they do this; trash talk and filthy promises are how Rocket and Kraglin operate, both in and outside the bedroom.

Not this. This is something different and raw and feral and it scares Rocket.

He thinks he likes it.

“You gonna do it?” he whispers, staring at the ceiling. 

And Kraglin groans, reaching down to wrap his hand around Rocket's cock and jerk him roughly. 

Rocket shouts, trailing off into a shivery moan. He's trapped under Kraglin's bulk, and he can barely do more than writhe as Kraglin keeps him pinned and touches him. The teeth at his throat hold him in place, and Kraglin's growling breaths rumble through him. Kraglin's thumb catches at his slit and worries it, smearing precum down the underside of his cock before going back to jacking him off. 

There are tears stinging the corners of his eyes, so Rocket squeezes them shut. This is too intense, he's gonna float away if Kraglin doesn't keep holding him down. Kraglin ain’t being nice about it; rough calluses catch on the sensitive skin of Rocket’s cock, and it hurts but it’s so, so good. He tries to rock his hips up and can't, and something about that gets to him and he breaks with an honest to god scream, coming all over his and Kraglin's stomachs. 

Kraglin finally raises his head to look at Rocket, and those blue eyes go wide when he sees how Rocket's shaking.

“Shit,” he says, sitting up and pulling Rocket into his lap. “Are you cryin’? ‘M sorry, Rocket, I didn't mean t’—”

“Shut up,” Rocket whispers, clinging to Kraglin. He is crying, can feel tears running down his cheeks, but he'll be damned if he knows why. It's just sex. He's done it before, so what the hell’s wrong with him?

Kraglin pets up and down his back, skipping around his hardware, and the sound of his heartbeat is weirdly soothing. Rocket lays his ear against it while he sobs and shakes like a crazy person. “You're okay,” Kraglin keeps muttering. “Gonna be okay.”

He sounds concerned, and Rocket wishes he could tell him it's fine, but he don't feel fine. His breathing is starting to slow down, but he's still shaking and he can't quit. 

Out of nowhere he misses Yondu so much he starts crying again, burying his face in Kraglin's chest because it ain't fair how he took off and left them both here. “Th-this is so stupid,” he chokes out between hiccuping breaths. “I ain't sad or nothing.”

Kraglin keeps patting him. “Nah. I know what this is. ‘S okay, you're just crashin’.”

“Crashing?” Rocket peers up at him.

“Yeah. Happens sometimes when shit gets real intense. I didn't think it'd happen t’ you though.” Kraglin sounds apologetic, and he shifts Rocket a little closer in his lap. 

“Fuck,” mutters Rocket, snuffling into Kraglin's armpit. He usually tries not to get too weird about the smells, but he needs comforting scents right now, and that's where it's strongest.

“Uhh...okay,” says Kraglin awkwardly, but he doesn't ask. Just keeps stroking and patting and cooing nonsense to soothe Rocket as best he can.

“Can we shower?” Rocket mumbles after awhile, when he's stopped crying and his shaking is manageable. “I got come in my fur.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” Kraglin keeps his arms tight around Rocket as he clambers to his feet. Normally Yondu's the only one who gets to do this, but right now Rocket kinda likes it. Kraglin's wiry but he's strong, and his arms feel like the safest place to be right now.

Which makes no sense, but whatever. He's blaming this one on his weird animal instincts and calling it done.

Kraglin walks them over to Yondu's bathroom. He tries to sit Rocket down on the toilet, but fuck that. Rocket stays right where he is and Kraglin turns the water on with one hand.

“Okay, okay. I ain't gonna put ya down,” Kraglin mutters with a sigh. They wait what feels like forever until the water warms up (and Rocket’s come crusted belly is starting to itch), and then Kraglin steps in, grubby underwear and all. 

Rocket sighs and laps at the streams of water; it's metallic and gross, but he's pretty thirsty right now. He makes a face at Kraglin when he sees him watching. “What?”

“Nothin’.” Kraglin pats his back and looks around kind of helplessly. “I ain't got enough hands t’ soap ya down an’ keep hold a’ya.”

Rocket takes stock of the situation and comes to the same conclusion. “Crap.” If Yondu was here this wouldn't be an issue. “Okay, fine. You can put me down.” 

Kraglin studies his face, but nods after a second and sets him down under the warm spray. Rocket tilts his face into it, feeling some of the weirdness slide off with the water. It's good. This was a good plan.

“Here.” Kraglin's back with the soap. He lathers his hands up and Rocket jerks back at the smell of it.

“That's Yondu's soap.”

Kraglin pauses. “Yeah. Figured you'd want it.”

Rocket stares at him, wondering (yeah, okay, for the first time because he's a self-absorbed asshole) how long Kraglin's been paying attention to shit like that. Normally, Kraglin's right. Rocket loves the way Yondu smells, for all Drax and Gamora bitch about Ravager hygiene. It's not even a sex thing either. All the Guardians smell good to Rocket, in their own homey ways. Yondu's special, though, in a way only Groot ever was before. 

Well, it's a sex thing too, so not quite like Groot.

But of course Kraglin keeps track of this stuff. Kraglin's whole life revolves around keeping Yondu happy, don't it? And Rocket makes Yondu happy, so Kraglin pays attention to Rocket.

“I want yours,” says Rocket after a pause. He does, too. Wants Kraglin to be the last thing he smells tonight and the first thing in the morning. It startles him, how much he wants it.

But if Kraglin looks surprised, he don't say nothing. Just shrugs and grabs his own soap off the rack to lather up and scrub come out of Rocket's fur like it ain't a big deal.

Maybe for him it isn't. Rocket's mind is racing now, tripping over possibilities and pitfalls that seem to open up the minute he thinks of them. How Kraglin was the one to make the first move with Yondu, putting himself out there after decades of rejection. How he turned around and accepted Rocket into their thing only a couple days later, when he'd have been justified tossing them both out an airlock.

How Yondu leaving must seem like a huge fuck-you after everything Kraglin's done to accommodate him.

Shit.

He keeps quiet while Kraglin cleans him and dries him and bundles him back into bed like a little kid. How many times did he do that for Quill, Rocket wonders. Or was it wrangling drunk Ravagers to bed that's made him so efficient at packing Rocket up in blankets and settling him in?

“Hey,” he mumbles as sleep begins to pull at him; he's exhausted and warm and safe and there's no fighting it.

Kraglin blinks down at him with those pretty blue eyes. “Hey yourself.”

“You're really good, you know that?” The right words aren't coming to him, but he fishes a hand out of the blanket to pat at Kraglin's shoulder. “At all this stuff. Takin’ care of things.”

Kraglin's eyes crinkle a little at the corners. “Okay, Rocket. Whatever ya say. Get some sleep.”

So Rocket does.

\---

He wakes up early the next morning and just lays there, listening to Kraglin's wheezing snores. A glance at the clock says he's got about half an hour before he's gotta be up on the bridge for his turn piloting. It gives him time to watch Kraglin.

The guy ain't pretty, no more than Rocket or Yondu are. His mouth’s hanging open and he snorts a little when he snores, and something warm flutters in Rocket’s chest when he looks at him. Makes him wanna close the last of the distance still hanging between them.

But first things first. He rolls out of bed and grabs his portable comm. With great power comes great responsibility, or some shit, and someone has to pull Yondu's head back out of his ass before he gets himself into trouble.

So Rocket calls the one person Yondu’ll listen to no matter what.

“What did he do now?” asks Stakar wearily.

“Don't matter. Tell him to call Kraglin or his ass is grass. He'll know it's from me.” Rocket eyes the great Ravager admiral with more than a little skepticism; Yondu talks like the sun rises and shines out the guy's ass, but Rocket don't see it. Mostly he looks like a cranky old fart who needs a good night's sleep.

Then again, so does Yondu.

Stakar smirks. “Will do. Anything else?”

He's being humored. Rocket hates being humored. “Yeah,” he says with a smile that's all teeth, “don’t go tryin’ to be father of the year again. We look out for Yondu just fine. Got it?”

The look of surprise on Stakar’s face before Rocket hangs up on him is something Rocket will treasure.

When he looks up, Kraglin's staring at him.

“Hey,” he says.

“You just called Stakar Ogord t’ make him pass along a message,” says Kraglin wonderingly. He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Rocket.”

“He did it, too,” Rocket points out smugly.

Kraglin groans like he's dying and covers his face with both hands. “How the hell’re you still alive? Someone shoulda killed your smart ass before now.”

Rocket shrugs. “Plenty tried.” He glances at the clock. “Hey...about last night.”

Kraglin lowers his hands. “What about it?”

“You didn't get off.” Rocket looks at him. 

Kraglin snorts. “What, you thinkin’ I didn't get nothin’ outta last night?” He grins, slow and filthy. “Watchin’ you shake an’ moan like you was dyin’ was plenty good enough for me.”

Rocket blushes. Thankfully it don't show under the fur. “Shut up.”

“Jus’ sayin’.” Kraglin stretches, all limbs and toes, and reaches into the pile of clothes he and Yondu keep leaving in the corner. One of these days Rocket's gonna snap and space all their dirty laundry, but for now he just catches his suit when Kraglin throws it at his head.

“Thanks,” he mutters as he shimmies into it.

Kraglin surfaces from the pile with his own jumpsuit half on. “Think they got food started yet?”

“God, I hope so.” Rocket's starving.

Kraglin gives him a sly, knowing look that makes Rocket’s face burn. “Bet you're hungry.”

Rocket leers. “Turned down a perfectly good blowjob, dumbass. I could've eaten.” He opens the door while Kraglin snags his datapad with all the day’s repairs on it.

“Wait, when was a blowjob on the table? Ya never said you was offerin’.”

“Too late now.” Rocket shakes his head. “Now I’m just gonna have to make do with whatever carb loaded garbage you guys keep in the mess.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Didn’t realize I was deprivin’ ya of your daily dose o’ protein,” Kraglin says with a dirty grin.

Rocket laughs. “Most important meal of the day, right?”

“‘S what I was taught,” Kraglin agrees amiably.

“You two had better be talking about breakfast,” says Gamora irritably when they meet her at the intersection outside the mess. She scowls when they both give her innocent looks, but just shakes her head and walks in before them.

Rocket snorts, and Kraglin snickers. “You're too loud, kid. Whole ship can hear ya moanin’ for me,” Kraglin whispers. “Gonna have t’ gag ya next time.”

Rocket kicks at his ankle, which Kraglin sidesteps. It gets them a few weird looks from the others as they make their way to the food.

When Rocket sits down with his obscenely full plate, Gamora pins him with a look. “Have you heard from Yondu?”

Rocket chomps on some reheated canned crap that tastes way better than it has any right to. “Nope. Job's supposed to take about a week.”

“He should have asked,” Quill says darkly, clutching his coffee cup. “If I'd taken his ship without asking he'd have killed me.”

“Ya did take his ship without askin’. Plenty o’ times. I just never told him.” Kraglin raises an eyebrow.

Quill blinks innocently. “I have no idea what you're talking about, and even if I did, I'm pretty sure I paid you handsomely for your silence.”

“Paid handsomely my ass,” grumbles Kraglin. “More like ya paid me back by scratchin’ the paint job all to hell an’ blamin’ it on me. Li’l shit.”

Gamora closes her eyes like she's counting to ten.

Mantis just looks entertained, like she always does when stories about Quill's childhood come up. Guess the whole family thing is as weird for her as it is for Rocket.

Drax comes in last, holding Groot against his shoulder. He sets him down on the table before going to fill his plate. It's got nearly as much food on it as Rocket's.

They eye each other's plates for a second before Drax scoots his away and chows down. Rocket snorts and does the same.

Groot wanders up and down the table picking the good stuff off everyone's plates; no one stops him, and Mantis even offers him some dried fruit with a delighted giggle. It's all very domestic, and Rocket wonders why the hell Yondu had to take off and ruin it.

\---

He's halfway through his bridge shift when an incoming message pings on the comms. Rocket and Quill both dive for it, but it's Mantis who's closest. 

She blinks into Yondu's thunderous face and then smiles bravely. “Everyone is very upset with you,” she tells him.

“Where's Rocket,” says Yondu flatly.

Rocket scrambles over the back of the chair. “I'm right here, ya blue idiot. Why you callin’ me instead of Kraglin like I told you?”

“Because Kraglin,” says Yondu with great dignity, “ain't answerin’ his comm. I already left a coupla messages an’ if that's how he's gonna be, I ain't leavin’ more.”

Rocket resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. 

“ _You!_ ” Quill points a finger at Yondu's face. Big drama queen. “Where are you? Where did you take my _ship?_ ”

Yondu raises his eyebrows. “Ship’s fine, boy. Got her parked safe an’ sound in Mainframe’s hangar. She ain't even gonna see any action, so don't you worry about her.”

“What if I needed her? Did you stop to think about that? Honestly, all the shit you gave me over the years about being responsible and this is the crap you pull?” Quill's worked himself up to a nice lecture, so Rocket sits back to enjoy the creeping guilt in Yondu's expression. 

He keeps looking furtively off the side; Rocket hopes all his old friends are around to listen to his kid tearing him a new one. Finally he opts to ignore Quill and looks at Rocket. “You gonna defend me here?”

Rocket snorts. “Both Kraglin and I told you takin’ this job was stupid. No one ever said anything about stealin’ the ship. And I promised Quill I'd always side with him if you two are fighting.”

“Ha!” Quill gives Yondu a smug look.

“Besides, I thought we were over stealing batteries we don't need,” says Rocket pointedly.

Now Yondu's paying attention. “This ain't like that,” he tries.

“Tell it to Kraglin when he's willing to talk to you again.” Rocket shrugs. 

Yondu glares at him. “We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he says after a beat.

“You bet we will,” Rocket shoots back, and then adds, “be safe.”

Yondu blinks, something fond crinkling his eyes for a second before he nods. “Quill, keep outta trouble. See you in a couple o’ days.”

“Yondu--” But he's already hung up. Quill scowls. “He's such a jackass.”

“No joke,” mutters Rocket. 

“How pissed is Kraglin, exactly?” Quill gives him the side eye.

Rocket considers. “He don't say much, so it's hard to tell. Pretty pissed.”

Mantis sits down in the chair next to Rocket’s. “Is it normal to argue like this?”

“For them? Hell, who knows?” Rocket crosses his arms. “I ain't been around long enough to figure out normal when it comes to those two.”

“They fight, but not really like this. Kraglin's never just ignored Yondu's calls before.” Quill shrugs.

“But Yondu was his captain before,” Mantis points out. “Was Kraglin allowed to ignore him?”

The obvious hangs there for a minute, and then Rocket says, “goddammit.”

\---

“If you meant to let him know he fucked up, it's working,” Rocket calls down.

Kraglin's been in the engine room most of the day, getting his hands dirty while working out the kinks in engines that haven't been used for the better part of thirty years. Right now he's got one of the turbines suspended so he can repair a blade.

“Didn't mean t’ do nothin’,” Kraglin yells back over the roar of the other engine. “I just wasn't in the mood for bullshit.”

Rocket climbs down the ladder to join Kraglin; the job’ll go faster with both of them anyway. 

Kraglin hands him a screwdriver and they both get to work. Rocket's quiet for a bit; the blade really does need repair and he gets lost in the logistics of it for awhile.

It's nice to have another mechanic on board besides Quill, who can do it but prefers to leave it to Rocket. That might be because of Rocket's repeated bitching about how he does it wrong. Who knows?

“How old were you when you joined up with Yondu?” he asks after awhile.

Kraglin glances over and pulls a wrench from between his teeth. “‘Bout seventeen. Why?”

“Just curious.” Rocket shrugs. “Means you were about eighteen when you first slept with him, right?”

Kraglin looks back at the blade. “Yep.”

Rocket nods, getting to work on his section of the turbine. It ain't exactly timed, but they don't wanna leave the second engine down too long. Stresses the first one too much. “So the impression I get is that you've been playin’ by Yondu's rules all this time, and you're sick of letting him call all the shots.”

Kraglin picks up the welding torch. “Might be,” he allows. “You got a problem with that?”

Rocket sighs. “I ain't takin’ sides, beanpole. I knew you guys had issues when I signed up for this gig.”

Kraglin keeps working, and for a minute Rocket's worried he's overstepped, especially after Kraglin's reaction last night. Him and Kraglin don't talk about feelings. Hell, he barely talks about feelings with Yondu. 

Then he lowers the welding torch and shuts it off. “You're gonna get sick o’ this gig sooner or later,” he says, almost too quiet for Rocket to hear over the engines.

Rocket stares at him. “What?”

Kraglin's snort is bitter. “C’mon, Rocket. You tellin’ me you don't think we oughta know better by now? I know we're screwed all t’ hell. How long you wanna put up with his bullshit? Or mine?”

“You think I'm gonna dump you?” he asks, stunned. He shakes his head. “What the fuck, Kraglin? Why would I leave? Who else would have me?”

“The hell’s that supposed t’ mean?” Kraglin snaps.

“You've seen me, right?” Rocket laughs bitterly. “I'm gonna find so many other assholes who wanna screw around with a furry little rat freak who can't fuck or give head. Yep, I'm in real high demand, Kraglin. Gonna leave you for some rich loser on a yacht.”

Kraglin's eyebrows do a funny thing Rocket can't translate. “That why you're here? ‘Cause ya think no one else would want you?”

“No!” How the hell did this turn into a discussion about _his_ insecurities? Rocket votes to backtrack immediately and talk more about Kraglin's issues. It's way better than bringing up his own—oh. “Goddammit, quit derailing the conversation! I got at least as many issues as you guys do, so fuck this. I'm staying. And that means dealing with your bullshit.”

Kraglin stares at him for a long moment before he powers up the torch again and finishes the repair. 

Rocket ain't sure what to say, but the silence between them ain't tense. He thinks Kraglin's mulling over some shit, so maybe he ought to do the same.

Thing is, he's not really sure what he should be mulling over. The guys he's sleeping with are fighting, but there's only so much he can do about it. Yondu's being a selfish asshole, and maybe that's what passed for normal on the _Eclector,_ but Rocket sure ain't putting up with it. Yondu don't get to give him that big speech about pulling his shit together and then sabotage himself like this.

Rocket sighs. They're the same, him and Yondu. Of course Yondu's gonna go and sabotage himself when things are too good. He doesn't trust it to stick anymore than Rocket does.

“I know why he's doin’ this,” he says to Kraglin's back.

Kraglin's quiet for a bit. “Me too. That's why I always forgive him.”

Rocket just stares. He don't know what to say to that. It's kind of overwhelming, looking at that kind of love. There's a small greedy part of him that _wants,_ suddenly. No one but Groot's ever loved Rocket like that.

Yondu has so many people who love him. Idiot’s got no idea how lucky his ugly blue ass really is; two families, a kid and a father figure both, and a former first mate who followed him into exile when everyone else turned their back.

Rocket swallows and fights the urge to start grooming himself. Bad timing; there's plasma residue all over the engines and he's gonna need to shower it off before he puts his mouth anywhere on his fur. He's feeling twitchy, though; he wants to squirrel himself away in the ducts or blow some shit up. 

Finally Kraglin gets the part in right with a triumphant “ha!” and turns to Rocket with his doofy grin. “We're up an’ runnin’,” he tells him happily.

And fuck Rocket's life, because Kraglin's _cute_ when he smiles like that.

Kraglin notices him staring and tilts his head, expressions flashing from happy to confused and then settling on something Rocket's not thinking about too closely. “I figure we done enough today,” he says, and Rocket’s toes curl at the promise in his voice.

They don't touch while they shower, letting the tension build as they scrub engine oil and plasma off themselves. Rocket can feel Kraglin's eyes on him, as heavy as Yondu's hands, and this thing is as new and raw as whatever they had last night.

He's gone so long without sex that it surprises him how much he wants it. He don't know if that's because it's new or if he's just addicted now, but he's hard and leaking and Kraglin hasn't even touched him yet. 

And it ain't even time for dinner and they really should be doing other shit, but when Rocket's all damp and fluffy and Kraglin picks him up, he can't even care about all the looks they'll get from the others when they slink in late.

His legs are too short to wrap around Kraglin's waist, but that don't matter because Kraglin's got his hands under Rocket's ass to hold him up, and Rocket’s cock is rubbing just right against his stomach. He almost regrets it when Kraglin lays him down and leans over him.

“You give head just fine,” he whispers.

Rocket blinks.

“Sure, your mouth ain't shaped like ours,” he continues, tracing a long finger across Rocket’s lips, “but you got a long, soft tongue. I like how ya wrap it around the head o’ my cock an’ stroke.”

Rocket shivers, licking instinctively at Kraglin's finger.

“Like that, yeah.” Kraglin smirks. He pets Rocket’s tongue with a fingertip. “An’ you always make it good an’ wet, slobberin’ all over my dick like you're hungry for it. Shoulda known you'd be good in bed first time I saw ya. Cocky li’l thing like you’s just _dying’_ t’ get fucked proper.”

“Kraglin,” Rocket whines, thrusting his hips up at nothing.

“An’ that brings me t’ the other thing ya said.” Kraglin ignores Rocket’s whining. “Said you couldn't fuck, an’ that just ain't true. So when Yondu gets back, I'm gonna hold him down an’ you're gonna fuck that sweet hole o’ his until he's sorry for leavin’. An’ then? Then I'm gonna slide in there right next t’ ya.”

Rocket shudders, imagining it. How slick and tight it would be, and how Kraglin's dick would feel squeezed against his. “ _Shit._ ” He sucks Kraglin's finger into his mouth, needing something to fill him up. 

Kraglin watches him with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah, you like that idea, huh? Way your cock curves, I bet you'll nail his prostate with every—” he pushes his finger roughly down Rocket’s throat, making him gag and whine— “single—” he pulls back and does it again— “thrust.”

Rocket moans, spreading his legs. His toes curl in the furs on the bed and his asshole clenches around nothing. He wants to get fingered, fucking _needs_ something inside him when he gets like this.

“But I know you weren't talkin’ about doin’ the fuckin’,” Kraglin murmurs. “I know you need somethin’ stuffed up you t’ really make ya scream.” His voice drops to a whisper as he confesses, “I thought about it too. Shovin’ my dick in you an’ fillin’ you up right. How I could probably press on your belly an’ feel my cock.”

Rocket stares up at him, panting. He _wants_ it so badly he could cry. 

If Kraglin touches him now, he's gonna come. 

Maybe Kraglin knows, because he gives Rocket a dirty grin. “Thought about fuckin’ _wreckin’_ you.”

“Do it,” Rocket whispers hoarsely. He needs it, and sure it'll hurt, but he knows pain. He can deal with being torn apart, won't even be the first time, and this'll be Kraglin ripping him open and that makes it better.

Kraglin's eyebrows shoot up. “Hell, Rocket. Can't just _say_ that to a man.” He bends down to nuzzle his face in the soft fur of Rocket's belly.

Rocket squirms and tries to angle his cock so it touches some part of Kraglin, but the guy’s slippery and he scoots out of humping range.

“I was thinkin’ we can work up to it,” Kraglin says, petting the insides of Rocket's thighs because he's an evil tease.

His words take a second to stick in Rocket’s sex fogged brain. “Work up to it?”

“Uh huh. It'll take time an’ maybe toys t’ stretch you wide enough.”

Oh. _Oh._ Rocket’s breath catches. “You think that'll work?” he asks faintly, a little dizzy just from the thought.

Kraglin pets a finger over his hole, pulling back when Rocket tries to shove down on it. “Only if you're patient.”

Rocket whines again. 

“Tell you what,” murmurs Kraglin in his low bedroom voice, “let's see if I can stuff ya full o’ three fingers. You tell me if it hurts, ‘cause I'm stoppin’ if I tear ya.”

“ _Fuck yes,_ ” Rocket groans, jerking his hips in spite of himself. “Come on, do it, put ‘em in me.”

Kraglin chuckles. “Greedy,” he chides, tapping his fingertip against Rocket’s hole. He does it until Rocket snarls and then pushes the tip in dry.

Rocket tries to angle it further in, but Kraglin moves with him, giving him no relief. It's evil and Rocket loves it. Sex is the only time he ever likes being smaller than everyone else; there's something about being moved around like a doll that gets him hot and shivery.

“Look how bad you need it,” Kraglin coos at him. “Your pretty pink cock’s leakin’ everywhere.” 

“Fuck,” Rocket pants, wishing Kraglin would just touch him already. 

But Kraglin's evil, so he just wiggles his finger a little in Rocket’s ass and reaches over him to grab the lube (they're running low already, and Rocket’s not sure he's gonna survive if they run out before they make it back to Xandar). He pops the cap and drizzles a stream over Rocket’s ass.

The cold makes him gasp and clench up, which makes Kraglin grin because he's evil. He starts working lube into Rocket with shallow, steady strokes, deliberately missing his prostate.

Rocket wants to kill him. Or roll over and raise his ass in the air. He can't decide.

“You like it like this?” he pants. “Me on my back like this? All spread out for you?”

“Sure do. Ya look real pretty with that fuck drunk look on your face.” Kraglin toys with a second finger.

Rocket's usually pretty proud, but even he's got his limits. “Come on, do it. Please, Kraglin. I need it, you know I need it. Don't be an asshole, just do it!”

Kraglin chuckles and shifts onto his side so he can lay next to Rocket while he plays with him. “You beg real pretty,” he tells him. “No wonder Yondu says you're sweet. You like this for him when it's just the two o’ ya?”

Rocket whines. “Sometimes. Put it in and I'll tell you more.”

Kraglin pushes his second finger in, dragging a noise out of Rocket that he's never admitting to unless Kraglin threatens to stop. The stretch is good, no burn at all. “So,” says Kraglin after a few glorious minutes where Rocket stops thinking, “you beg Yondu for this too?”

“He don't make me beg.” Rocket grins. “Just gives me what I want.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Kraglin scissors his fingers, shocking a noise from Rocket. “He's always been a sucker for pretty faces.”

“You ever let him fuck you?” asks Rocket. 

Kraglin blinks. “Once, early on. Back when we was dumb enough t’ think doin’ the fuckin’ meant you was in charge.”

“Better the other way around, huh?” Rocket squirms as Kraglin ghosts past his prostate.

“Yeah.” Kraglin smirks. “Why? You wanna fuck me?”

Rocket thinks about it. Wonders how it would feel to watch Kraglin lose his mind under him. He shivers. “Someday. Bet I can make you scream for a change.”

“Like t’ see ya try,” Kraglin shoots back with a smirk. “But I think you're too much of a cock slut t’ wanna do the fuckin’ that often.” He pulls his fingers out and laughs when Rocket growls at him. “See? You need this—” And he pushes them back in along with a third.

Rocket thinks he sees god.

Kraglin's got his fingers curled just right to rest against his prostate, and he's fuller than he's ever been. Rocket reaches down desperately to touch his cock, only to have Kraglin slap his hand away.

“Nope. You're gonna take it.” Kraglin leans down to nuzzle Rocket's fur with his beaky nose. “Don't get t’ come ‘til I say so,” he whispers into Rocket's ear.

“Oh _god_ ,” Rocket moans. 

“Gonna work you up more, get you so desperate you can taste it.” Kraglin keeps on whispering in his ear while he fingers him. “Ya think you're full now, just wait ‘til we get t’ Xandar an’ I get my hands on some toys. Gonna finger ya loose an’ then plug you full until I'm ready t’ play with ya again.”

“Yes.” Rocket clenches around Kraglin's fingers just to test how full he is, riding the edge of pain that always makes it so good.

“Keep you all loose an’ sweet until I can fit my cock in you.” Kraglin bites his ear, gently, and Rocket gives in.

“Come on, Kraglin. Let me come!” His voice sounds weird, high and needy, and he hates thinking of himself that way but it's true. He needs it.

“Not yet.” Kraglin crooks his fingers against Rocket’s prostate, and so maybe he squeals a little. Kraglin won't tell.

“Sadistic bastard,” he whispers.

Kraglin just grins. “You love it.”

“Yeah,” Rocket whispers after a second, “I do.” He means something else.

They stare at each other for a beat, Kraglin's grin sliding off his face. When he bends down to kiss Rocket it's soft, just a brush of lips against Rocket’s muzzle. Rocket thinks he might not mind this kissing thing so much after all.

It's almost too sweet, so Rocket breaks the tension by slurping across Kraglin's mouth just to be an asshole.

He don't count on Kraglin _moaning_ and melting into it. Sure, he's noticed how Kraglin likes kissing Yondu, but he didn't figure the guy was _that_ into it. So he licks into Kraglin's open mouth, tasting stale breath and the remnants of coffee. 

It's okay. Not ever gonna be Rocket's favorite thing, but he figures Kraglin's licked his asshole so he can make some sacrifices too.

And it gets Kraglin's hand moving faster, slamming his fingers into Rocket hard enough to jostle him on the bed. He digs his toes into the mattress and lets Kraglin stroke his tongue across Rocket's open mouth, moaning loud enough to hear up on deck. 

“Let me come,” he whispers against Kraglin's mouth.

Kraglin shivers. “Do it.”

And Rocket does, with a snarling animal noise. His eyes roll back in his head and he's gotta turn away from Kraglin's face so he won't bite his tongue off, and he's gonna need another shower because he got come all over his belly. Again.

He lets Kraglin flip him over and settles on his belly with a content hum, spreading his legs and moving lazily where Kraglin directs him. The bed shifts behind him and then there's a careful pressure against his asshole that brings him back online.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, breath catching.

Kraglin presses the tip of his cock against Rocket’s hole, just enough for Rocket to feel it. “Feels good, don't it?”

Rocket closes his eyes. “Can you do it?” He hopes so.

“Don't wanna risk it yet. My fingers ain't long enough t’ really stretch like you need.” Kraglin's breath hitches, and Rocket can feel the motion as he starts jerking himself off. “Ain't gonna stop me from comin’ inside you though.”

“ _Oh my god,_ ” whispers Rocket. His hole is so sensitive, he can feel everything. Kraglin's cock is hot against his skin, and it's so wet with lube and precome. “Why the hell do you always save this shit for after I come?”

“So ya can jerk off to it later,” Kraglin grunts.

Rocket looks over his shoulder with a sly grin. “Come on, baby, don't pretend you don't like me all lazy and fucked out.” He bats his eyes obnoxiously.

It makes Kraglin choke out a laugh that turns into a moan. “You’re such a flarkin’ princess sometimes, ya know that?”

“You love it,” Rocket tells him, hoping it's obvious what he really wants to say.

Kraglin's grin melts into something warmer. “Bet I do.” And then his face twists up in pleasure as he comes with a low groan. Hot spurts of come hit Rocket’s hole and it's the most erotic thing that's ever happened to him since the very first time Yondu touched his dick. 

He shivers, shoving his face in the furs to keep himself together; he's a little leery of crashing again, since he still doesn't get what caused it the last time. But it doesn't happen now; Rocket just feels warm and satisfied.

Kraglin flops down next to him and pets his back, lingering a little over his tail. When Rocket just wiggles his ass, he gives in.

Rocket basks in the afterglow while Kraglin idly pushes his own come back into Rocket’s asshole with a single finger. It's weirdly nonsexual. They're just laying together, scents mingling, and Rocket likes it. He's had this sort of closeness with Yondu before, but it's new with Kraglin.

A lot of stuff’s new with Kraglin.

His stomach rumbles, which makes Kraglin start snickering. 

“Shut up, dude. You ever get checked for a tapeworm, the way you eat?” Rocket grumbles.

“What happened t’ baby?” Kraglin asks, finally pulling his finger out of Rocket's ass. He wipes it on Yondu's pillow, and Rocket makes a mental note to stay on his good side.

“Wanna go get me some food, _baby?_ ” asks Rocket dryly.

Kraglin smacks his ass and Rocket laughs, rolling onto his side and stretching. He feels good, fucked out and relaxed. And Kraglin's still grinning at him when he gets off the bed and starts getting dressed. “You're such a brat,” Kraglin mutters, but Rocket can tell he's just bitching for the hell of it.

“Quit spoiling me then,” says Rocket, wiggling his toes lazily.

Kraglin looks over, still pulling his jumpsuit on. “Nah,” he says softly, and leans over to kiss Rocket again.

Kissing with tongue might be weird, but these little brushes of lips are okay. Rocket feels a little fluttery or some shit when Kraglin straightens up and goes for the door, so maybe he don't hate ‘em as much as he thought.

\---

Mantis, it turns out, has a good eye for picking up scrap metal for Rocket to repurpose. The Quadrant has plenty of that to go around; there are still rooms they never use filled with mostly useless crap. Rocket doesn't do as much exploring as Groot, but apparently Mantis likes poking around the lower levels with the little guy. Rocket only found out about the scrap metal because she and Groot came back with a really handy piece for the project he'd been working on.

Now that she can do something useful, Rocket’s more inclined to let her in his workshop. That, and she's let go of that petting urge. And maybe it was a dick move to let her find him with Yondu's hand down his pants, but it seemed to hammer home the point that he ain't an animal.

She hasn't asked to pet him again after that one.

At the moment, Rocket’s got her messing around with a pretty basic circuit board while he debates between two different alloys for bomb casings. If the kid wants to learn, he'll set her up, but he's never gonna be a great teacher or nothing.

Mantis yelps as she zaps her finger.

“Told you not to touch the wires,” Rocket mutters without looking up.

She sticks her finger in her mouth, frowning at the circuit board. “How long did it take you to learn this?” 

Rocket pauses. “What, electrical shit?”

“Yes. It's very complicated.”

“I guess.” Rocket scratches his ear and finally looks at her. “Look, it don't matter how I learned it. No one's teaching you that way. Sure, it's not exactly basic, but get used to some scrapes and burns and you'll figure it out. Ain't like you're stupid.”

She blinks big eyes at him. “You think I am not stupid?”

Rocket sighs heavily. “Didn't I just say that?”

“That is the nicest thing you've ever said to me!” Mantis beams. “I know you didn't like me very much because I wanted to pet you when we first met.”

Rocket blinks, nonplussed. Sometimes Mantis’s brutal honesty is more than he can handle. “Uh...”

“No, no, I understand it better now,” she continues, grabbing for the circuit board again. “Gamora didn't like me at first either, because I told everyone that Peter was in love with her and then I laughed at him with Drax.”

Rocket remembers how scared he'd been that she would do exactly that to him over dinner some night right in front of Yondu and Kraglin. He swallows. “Yeah, that's not cool.”

“I know that _now_.” Mantis rolls her eyes.

“Well excuse me, Miss Social Skills,” Rocket mutters.

She giggles. “You're not very nice sometimes, but I like that. I would rather have you and Drax insult me than pretend to be nice.”

“Not like we could fool you anyway.” Rocket eyes her antennae; she's not touching him and they're not glowing, so he doesn't think she's reading him.

“No, but that never stopped Ego.” She shrugs. “You respect me enough to be honest.”

And Rocket's not sure what to say to that, because he remembers that too; the condescending praise and false assurances that this was the last procedure, he did fine and they wouldn't have to do any more tests...

He shakes his head violently. Some shit belongs in the past. Good on Mantis for talking about the crap she's been through. He'll pass.

“You got questions about that circuit board, just ask,” he finally says. 

He puts up with her. Not like he misses having Nebula hanging around or anything.

Or Yondu.

\---

Last time Rocket missed anyone it was when Quill and the rest of them went off with Ego, and then he only had a few hours to sulk before shit hit the fan. So he never noticed how time does funny things when you have feelings involved; the week crawls and races past at the same time, and he mostly fills it giving Mantis pointers, chasing Groot around the lower decks to keep him from eating stuff, shooting the shit with Quill, and fucking Kraglin.

He's busy, but he still finds time to miss Yondu. The only thing that makes it better is that Quill does too.

“Your dad's a dick,” Rocket tells him when they're alone on the bridge.

“At least he calls you back,” Quill mutters morosely. “Why are you the favorite?”

Rocket snorts. “Pretty sure you don't wanna know the answer to that.”

“Gross.” Quill puts on the song by that cat guy, the sappy one Yondu definitely doesn't listen to on repeat when no one’s around.

Rocket shrugs. “That's not it anyway. He didn't think I'd yell at him like you and Kraglin, that's why he didn't dodge my calls.”

Quill scowls down at the Zune. He's been messing with it all shift, leaving the piloting to Rocket. Typical. 

“And I called Stakar on him,” Rocket adds, smirking when Quill's head pops up.

A delighted expression grows across his face. “You didn't.”

“I did. You want the guy’s comm signature? He's sorta like family, right?”

“Hell yes. This is amazing. You called him and he made Yondu call you back?” Quill hands over his datapad eagerly.

“Pretty much.” Rocket types in Stakar's name under ‘Grandpa’ and saves it. He likes to think it'll annoy both Stakar and Yondu. “Here.”

“Awesome. Kraglin still mad?”

“Oh yeah. I'm pretty sure he wiped his ass with Yondu's towel the other day. I ain't looking too close though.” What he does know is that Yondu's pillow has been getting systematically smeared with come, lube, and anything that's on Kraglin's fingers after they've been in Rocket's ass.

Quill shakes his head. “He's evil.”

“Yep.” Rocket smiles a little.

“I know that look.” When Rocket looks over, Quill's giving him a knowing smile. 

“Nope,” says Rocket flatly.

“Oh no. You don't get to date my dad and—whatever Kraglin is and not tell me if it's serious. Everyone knows you liked Yondu first and Kraglin came along for the ride.”

“How the hell does everyone know that when I ain't been talking to anyone about it?” Rocket demands.

Quill looks kind of guilty. “Well,” he amends, “Gamora and I sort of have a working theory based on the stuff Drax overheard.”

Rocket glares. “I'm taking your dad and Kraglin and we're leaving with Nebula next time she shows up.”

“So you and Kraglin aren't getting all cozy?” Quill wiggles his eyebrows. 

Rocket just stares at him. “There's something wrong with you.”

“Okay, man. Whatever you say.” Quill puts on that shitty song about not being in love. The one Rocket definitely doesn't listen to when no one else is around.

Rocket chucks one of Groot’s candies at him.

\---

He comes awake when the door lock beeps. The room’s dark, but Rocket’s night vision can still make out a familiar shape in the doorway before the lock reseals and the light from the hallway is gone.

The light beside the bed flicks on a second later; Rocket ain't the only light sleeper here. Kraglin's got his arms crossed over his bare chest, looking unimpressed as Yondu pauses.

“Wasn't tryin’ t’ wake you,” Yondu mumbles.

“Well, ya did.”

Rocket sighs. “You just get back?”

“Yeah.” Yondu winces. “Got an earful from Gamora already.” When neither of them look particularly sympathetic, he sighs heavily. “Well, go on then. Let's hear it.”

Rocket looks at Kraglin, whose face is tight. His mouth turns down at the corners and Rocket can see the tendons on his neck standing out. 

Instead of answering, he flicks off the light and rolls back over.

Shit.

Rocket gets up and gropes around for his suit in the pile of laundry; Kraglin's a terrible influence on his personal habits. Once he's dressed, he snags Yondu's sleeve and pulls him out of the room.

The hallway’s painfully bright, but Rocket squints through it to take Yondu in.

He's got a shiner and a cut above his eye, but he's moving fine. Nothing serious, then. The relief is more intense than Rocket expected.

“You're an asshole,” he tells Yondu bluntly. “It's amazing he puts up with you at all, way you're acting.”

And okay, it's not a great opener, but in Rocket’s defense he's tired and he don't know how to do any of this.

It has the wrong effect; Yondu puffs up, eyes flashing. “An’ him tryin’ t’ keep me from talkin’ t’ Stakar an’ the others is okay? I seem t’ remember you callin’ him psycho at one point, boy.”

Fuck. Rocket doesn't wanna do this here. He's exhausted, it's late, he's still got Kraglin's come crusted all over his thighs, and he isn't even sure how he feels about all this. “It ain't what you did, Yondu. It's how you did it. Shouldn't have just snuck off and then ignored us when we called you. That was a dick move.”

Yondu glares at him. “You the expert now, after one little talk from me?”

“Why are you doin’ this?” Rocket snaps. “Why you gotta sabotage this thing just when it's getting good? You really think he's gonna leave now, after everything?”

“I'm doin’ no such thing.” Yondu looks cagey now, though. 

“Stealin’ ships, stealin’ batteries,” growls Rocket. “Same damn thing. Get your head right, Yondu. I spent my whole fucking life wishing someone loved me like he loves you.”

Yondu stares at him.

Rocket looks away, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Finally, after a long pause, Yondu says, “what do I gotta do t’ make this right?”

“Dunno why you're askin’ me. I don't know what the hell I'm doing here.”

There's a soft thump as Yondu leans against the wall. “For what it's worth, Krugarr an’ Mainframe didn't seem too impressed with me neither.”

“No? Can't imagine why,” says Rocket snidely.

Yondu almost looks hurt, and Rocket feels like an asshole. “I guess they was hopin’ I grew up some more. Or was th’ same as I used t’ be. Or somethin’.”

Rocket’s first impulse is to say fuck ‘em if they don't like Yondu. He's got the Guardians now, and he don't need the Ravagers. But that's not right. If Quill one day decided he didn't like Rocket anymore...

Well. Rocket wouldn't wanna hear ‘fuck ‘em’ from some asshole who didn't know what he was talking about.

“Maybe you guys should just hang out before you try runnin’ heists,” he says instead. “You know. Catch up.”

Yondu grunts, staring out at the middle distance. He looks like he's settling in for a good sulk.

“Who punched your pretty face, old man? I'm gonna rip their eyeballs out.” 

Yondu gives Rocket a sly look. “Too late,” he says with a crooked grin. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

And Rocket grins back. “Come here.”

Yondu's eyebrows go up, but he ambles toward Rocket and lets him climb up into his arms.

They don't touch in public much, partly because of Quill's delicate sensibilities but mostly because this thing belongs to them and they're both selfish and secretive. But it's the middle of the night and no one’s around, so Rocket nuzzles Yondu's neck and licks under his jaw, feeling something slide back into place. 

“Let's go back inside,” he mumbles. Ain't like Kraglin's asleep; if Rocket knows him, he'll be awake stewing over the fact that Rocket went after Yondu.

They have some shit to discuss.

Sure enough, Kraglin's stiff as a board when Rocket and Yondu crawl into bed next to him. Yondu stares at the outline of his back, a little helplessly, and whispers his name.

He doesn't answer.

Rocket looks between them and then goes to curl himself around Kraglin's front. “Hey,” he whispers.

Kraglin heaves a sigh, but his arms close around Rocket and pull him close. “Don't make it too easy,” he whispers back.

Rocket nips at his collarbone, listening to Yondu settling in beside them. “Baby,” he says with a grin, “you don't gotta worry about that.”

_“What the hell did you do t’ my pillow?!”_

\---

Rocket's not sure how he managed to fall back asleep after Yondu's big tantrum about the pillow (and honestly, it's creepy how many of Quill's theatrics come from Yondu), but next time he opens his eyes, the clock says it's morning and there are soft voices talking behind him.

“—treat you like you're nothin’” Kraglin hisses. 

“I already told you—”

“It's like you can't appreciate nothin’ until it gets snatched away from ya! Is that why ya walk all over me? ‘Cause ya know I can't leave you?”

Rocket rolls over at the hint of pleading in Kraglin's voice. 

“If I'm so fuckin’ bad, why didn't you?” Yondu explodes.

Kraglin sighs. “I asked myself that every goddamn day,” he says after a minute. “Same reason you ain't mad at Stakar, I guess.”

Yondu looks over and meets Rocket's eyes. He tilts his head in acknowledgment before looking at Kraglin again. “If you're so understandin’ about me an’ Stakar, then what's the problem?”

“I ain't ever gonna forget them banishin’ you,” Kraglin finally mutters. “They hurt you worse than anyone ‘cept the Kree. Turned their backs on ya when ya went to ‘em for help. I hate ‘em for that, Cap'n. I hate ‘em all.”

He's got those big blue eyes of his fixed earnestly on Yondu's face, and Yondu's a stronger man than Rocket if he can resist that.

“Shit,” Yondu mutters. He runs a hand over his face. “Don't ask me t’ give ‘em up, Kraglin. Don’t make me choose.”

“I never made you choose,” says Kraglin softly. “Maybe I should have.”

“Dunno what I’d’a done if you had.” Yondu looks at Kraglin. “I'd do a lot t’ keep you, Obfonteri.”

“But not anything?”

Yondu's lips twitch. “Lookit you, always askin’ for more.” 

“You ain't any different,” says Rocket when Kraglin doesn't answer.

They both look at him. 

He shrugs. “Quill told me once that we're all losers. Like, we lost stuff. Get used to losin’ all the time, and you get real good at it. What we suck at is winning.”

He sees them glance at each other. 

“That sounds like the sorta dumb shit Quill’d say,” says Yondu after a second.

Kraglin laughs, but it sounds half like a sob.

Rocket finally sits up and rounds out the little feelings circle they have going on. Analyzing situations has always been easy for him, and he can see this one’s going in circles. “I'm sick of listening to you two talking around this,” he says, crossing his arms, “so let's lay it out. Yondu, you think it's shitty that Kraglin wants you to hate Stakar and the other Ravagers. They're your family and you think you should be able to go hang with them if you want. Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Yondu looks at Kraglin.

Kraglin narrows his eyes as Rocket continues, “and Kraglin thinks it's shitty that you don't even ask what he thinks about that even though he's your former first mate and he's stuck by you all these years. He thinks you get to call all the shots even though you're not captain anymore and he doesn't think that's fair. Is that also right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay then.”

They look at him.

“That's it?” asks Yondu.

“What?” Rocket frowns. “You think I'm gonna solve it for you too? No way. That's all you guys. I got a bridge shift in ten, and you gotta go listen to Quill chew you out.”

Yondu groans and runs a hand over his face as Rocket crawls out of bed. He's still dressed, to his disgust, but he washes up quickly and comes out of the bathroom to see them both talking in low voices. If they haven't killed each other by now, they probably aren't gonna, so he leaves and joins Gamora up on the bridge.

\---

Quill’s brewing tantrum gets cut short when Yondu appears in the mess while they're all eating lunch, Kraglin a shadow behind him, and tosses a unit chit on the table in front of him.

“What's this?” asks Quill, frowning down at it.

“‘S my cut from the job.” Yondu crosses his arms. He looks uncomfortable under all the bristling.

Quill stares at him for a long moment. “Is this an apology for taking my ship?”

Yondu looks disgusted. “You gotta make me spell everything out, boy? Yes! Happy now?”

“Nope.” Quill looks smug at the stricken look on Yondu's face and gets to his feet. “Get over here, old man.”

“No,” warns Yondu, but Quill doesn't listen, crowding in and wrapping his old man in a hug while Yondu bitches and whines and pretends not to enjoy it.

“Yer thirty seconds are up, Quill. I ain't foolin’!” It’d be more convincing if Yondu wasn’t gripping Quill’s jacket.

Quill hangs on another thirty to be a shithead (Rocket approves) and then lets go to clap Yondu on the shoulder. “Good to have you back.”

Yondu grunts and finds somewhere else to look.

“I am Groot?” Groot stands on the table with his little hands on his hips, glaring at Yondu.

“Nah, we ain't mad at him anymore,” says Rocket, patting Groot's back absently.

“I am Groot!”

“Oh, you're still pissed at him?”

“I am Groot!”

“What? He did not promise to hunt all the orloni on the ship with you. I heard him tell you no!”

“I mighta told him different after you left,” Yondu admits. He leans over so Groot can crawl onto his shoulder. “Hey Twig.”

Groot grips his ear and nestles in. “I am Groot.”

“He missed you,” Rocket translates needlessly.

“And he was totally the only one,” says Quill, but he's turning the unit chit over in his hand. He gives Rocket an evil grin before he adds, “Rocket and Kraglin definitely didn't hole up in your room most of the week having mopey sex and playing shitty sad music from my Zune.”

Kraglin's eyebrows shoot up and Rocket's about to throw something when Yondu snorts a laugh. 

“Don't be stupid, boy,” he says to Quill. “Ain't any shitty music on that Zune.”

“Weren't mopey neither,” Kraglin chimes in; Yondu gives him a sideways look.

“Not even a little?” he asks.

Kraglin smirks. “Nope.”

“Harsh,” says Quill. “Like, I meant that to be all sarcastic, but you guys took it way further than I—”

“—Wanna know what kinda sex we _were_ havin’ while you was gone?” Kraglin asks, still smirking at Yondu. He's got that hooded look that Rocket recognizes as trouble.

Yondu knows it too; his pupils blow even as Quill yells “ _dude!_ ”

“I might,” he allows, ignoring the squawking from Quill's direction.

“Seriously?” asks Gamora; she plucks Groot off Yondu's shoulder and leaves, rolling her eyes.

And Kraglin, who’s never touched Yondu in public, steps close behind him, slides possessive arms around his middle, and whispers something in his ear that makes Yondu's eyes go wide and dark.

“I'm out,” announces Quill in disgust. He throws down his napkin and scowls at Kraglin while Kraglin grins toothily back at him. “Old man sex isn't something I wanna hear about.”

“You brought it up, Pete. ‘Sides, Rocket don't seem t’ mind it,” says Kraglin cheerfully.

“Rocket,” Rocket chimes in loudly, “don't talk about that kinda stuff around Quill.”

“Thank you!” Quill puts his hands on his hips. “Thank you, Rocket, for not being a geriatric asshole.”

“That's oddly specific,” notes Drax; apparently he's started paying attention instead of eating.

Rocket rolls his eyes. “You're so welcome, Quill. Come on, let's get back to work.” Kraglin and Yondu can go have some old man sex on their own time; they've earned it.

A warm, heavy hand lands on his shoulder. “Where you goin’, boy?” Yondu asks quietly.

Rocket pauses, aware of Quill's outraged sputtering, but more aware of the weight of Yondu's hand, which moves to card through the fur of his nape. He clears his throat awkwardly. “I'll, uh, see you later, Quill.” 

Kraglin's giving him that hooded stare, and Rocket can feel his dick threatening to slide out of its sheath. “Go on, Pete,” Kraglin tells him. “I'll look over the _Milano_ first thing tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Quill scrunches his face up in disgust, but leaves.

“I hope you enjoy your sexual relations,” says Drax, and Rocket still can't work out if he's dense or being an asshole.

Kraglin's frowning at him. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Thanks. We'll do that.”

Rocket closes his eyes.

The leftover awkwardness lasts until they get back to Yondu's room, where Kraglin finally lets himself snicker. “Where the hell’d you find him anyway?” he asks Rocket.

“Prison,” Rocket tells him with a shrug. “He tagged along when we busted out.”

Yondu snorts. 

Rocket decides to change the subject. “So I take it you're not pissed anymore?” he asks Kraglin.

Kraglin glances at Yondu. “Well,” he says after a pause, “we're always gonna have a difference of opinion on Stakar.”

Yondu shrugs his coat off. “An’ that's ‘cause you ain't never forgiven anybody for nothin’ in your whole life.”

“‘Cept you,” Kraglin mutters.

Yondu pauses and looks at him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “I guess that's true.” There's something soft and fond in his voice. “Vicious li’l thing, ever since you was a pup. How many times did I have t’ pull you off one o’ my boys before ya killed ‘em?”

Kraglin smirks. “One or two,” he allows. 

Yondu shakes his head, grinning now. “Couple’a maniacs in my bed, that's what I've got.”

“Good thing we sorta like you.” Rocket grins, showing off his teeth.

Yondu eyes him appreciatively. “Ain't that the truth. Now, did you miss me or not?” He sits down on the bed and raises an eyebrow.

Rocket looks at Kraglin and finds him grinning back. “Remember that thing we talked about?” he asks casually.

Kraglin's grin turns evil. “I was just thinkin’ about that. What did you call me once? The right kinda deviant?”

Rocket laughs. “And you called me the perviest little fucker you'd ever met.”

“Ain't takin’ that back, ‘cause it's true.” Kraglin drags his eyes hungrily over Rocket's body.

Rocket's cock slides out of its sheath just from the heat in his eyes. He swallows. “Think it's gonna work?” He looks at Yondu, excited by the idea but (if he's being honest) kind of intimidated.

Yondu, for his part, looks intrigued.

“It'll work,” says Kraglin, and he sounds so sure that Rocket relaxes.

“Should I be undressin’ or did you two wanna keep runnin’ yer mouths?” 

“Sounds to me like you might've missed us too.” Rocket crawls onto the bed next to Yondu. “Did you get lonely without us?”

Yondu grunts and focuses on undoing the five hundred thousand straps on his clothes.

“‘Course he missed us,” says Kraglin. “He's a needy slut just like you are.”

Rocket's close enough to see Yondu shiver. “Is he right?” he asks softly. “Big empty bed all week make you miss havin’ us here?”

“Quit it, Rat. You know it did.” Yondu eyes Rocket with a new kind of awareness; maybe he never thought about rolling over for Rocket before, but he is now. 

Rocket leans close and licks up the side of Yondu's neck, chasing the taste of his skin. “You don't smell right,” he whispers against a blue ear. “Gotta fix that. Make it so you smell like us again.”

Yondu sucks in a shaky breath; when Rocket checks, his mouth is open a little and his pupils are blown wide.

Kraglin sinks to his knees to help Yondu pull his boots off, and once they're safely next to the laundry pile Kraglin starts in on his pants. Those are a lot easier to get off than Yondu's shirt, and between the three of them, they get Yondu down to his underwear pretty quick. 

Yondu reaches out to run his fingers through Kraglin's short hair, and Kraglin tips his head into the touch like a cat. One of these days Rocket wants to put Kraglin in the center and spoil him like he spoils them. He thinks it'd be good for all of them.

But right now, they've got a plan. And Rocket's plans are always good when he thinks them through (batteries not included). He pulls his suit off, since it's damn uncomfortable when he's got a boner, and surrenders to the inevitable by throwing it into the laundry pile. It lands perfectly on top.

“Three points,” Yondu mutters. “Finally wore him down, Krags.”

Kraglin flashes him a crooked grin. “Good. Was gettin’ tired of his bitchin’ about it.”

Rocket sighs. Apparently he's gross now too. Whatever. Who else is gonna know?

He shuts Kraglin up by grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him hard, the way he likes. Sure enough, it startles a moan out of him, and when Rocket pulls back he looks a little dazed. “You wanna keep talking shit or you wanna fuck?” Rocket demands.

Kraglin swallows, a delighted expression creeping over his face. “Bossy little bitch,” he whispers, eyes dropping eagerly to Rocket’s hard cock. He licks his lips, and Rocket briefly considers ditching the plan. 

But then Kraglin says, “I can't _wait_ t’ see how how you use that pretty little cock o’ yours.”

“Call it little again,” growls Rocket. “We can see how little it is when I shove it down your throat.”

“What th’ hell’d ya do to him, Krags?” asks Yondu wonderingly. “I like it.”

Kraglin's lips quirk. “Me too.” He pulls Rocket into another kiss, softer like Rocket prefers.

Rocket breaks it by yanking Kraglin’s hair back and giving him a grin that’s all teeth. “We had all week to make out. You should get him ready.”

“Who’s runnin’ this show?” Kraglin pokes at Rocket’s belly. Rocket definitely doesn’t squawk as he bats at Kraglin’s hand. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asks with a shiteating grin. “I thought you liked me bossy.”

“Ain’t used to it, that’s all,” Kraglin mutters. “Usually you got your ass in the air beggin’ me to put somethin’ in it.”

Rocket shivers a little. “Got a better use for your mouth than talkin’ dirty.”

Yondu lets out a little noise, red eyes locked on the two of them.

“Get him wet for me,” Rocket tells Kraglin. But he’s staring at Yondu.

Who swallows loudly but goes easily when Kraglin pushes him onto his back. He spreads his legs a little too quickly to pretend he’s not as eager for it as they are, and he moans when Kraglin yanks his underwear off. 

Rocket curls himself around Yondu’s head, minding the fin and situating his mouth right next to Yondu’s ear so he can lick at it. Yondu might not admit to all the dirty shit he likes as easy as Rocket, but his scent changes a little when something really does it for him.

The graze of Rocket’s teeth over the shell of his ear is one of those things that gets him going.

And Rocket loves how he can watch Yondu’s face the instant Kraglin gets his mouth on him. Yondu’s mouth falls open and his whole face twists up with pleasure. Rocket nips his ear just to hear him moan.

“I love his mouth,” he whispers to Yondu. “Wish you could’ve seen all the filthy shit he did with it while you were gone.”

Yondu moans again, deeper in his chest, and turns to grin hazily at Rocket. “You gon’ sweet talk me the whole time he’s down there?”

“Maybe. I think you both like hearin’ it.” Rocket brushes his lips against Yondu’s. It’s when Yondu kisses him back that it occurs to him they’ve never done this before. Kissing don’t seem to be something that ever crossed their minds before Kraglin got Rocket hooked on it.

“That’s new,” Yondu remarks, and then gasps as Kraglin does something good between his legs.

Rocket looks down and smirks. “Always feels so dirty, don’t it?” he says conspiratorially to Yondu. “Getting your asshole licked shouldn’t be that good, but it really fucking is.”

Yondu grunts and tries to shift, but Kraglin’s got an iron grip on both his thighs. “Shit,” he breathes, chest heaving. “Kraglin, yer bein’ a real tease.”

Kraglin raises his head, and Rocket’s dick twitches at how wet his face is. “Ain’t teasin’ ya. Just gettin’ you ready for Rocket’s cock.”

Yondu’s head falls back against the bed. “Aw hell,” he whispers. “Wet as he gets you don’t need t’ do much.”

“It’s not that weird,” says Rocket huffily. “You see yourself when Kraglin’s pounding your ass? Pot, kettle.”

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it, boy,” Yondu grunts; he’s trying to rub his dick against Kraglin’s face.

Kraglin blows on it because he’s an asshole and moves away. “C’mon, Rocket.” He ignores Yondu’s snarl. “Get down here.”

Don’t gotta tell Rocket twice. His dick’s hard and listening to Kraglin eat Yondu out just has him more worked up. He scrambles down to where Kraglin’s holding Yondu’s thighs open for him.

And he swallows hard at the sight in front of him. It’s not like he’s never seen Yondu’s asshole before; they’ve fooled around in enough configurations that they’ve all seen every part of each other. But he’s never seen it like _this_ , all shiny and slick just for him.

Kraglin’s hand on his back cuts off the high whine he hadn’t known he was making. “Ya okay?” he asks, clearly trying not to laugh.

“I—” Rocket swallows again. He takes a shuddering breath. “I dunno if I can last,” he confesses quietly. His ears flatten against his skull at the admission.

“You’re gonna do fine,” Kraglin murmurs. “Can always pull out an’ take a break if you get too close.” He nuzzles the top of Rocket’s head.

Rocket shivers. Kraglin’s heat against his back is reassuring, and he can’t take his eyes off Yondu’s quivering hole. “Okay.”

“ _Good boy,_ ” whispers Kraglin (and that’s so unfair, how hot Rocket gets when he says shit like that), and he wraps a slippery hand around Rocket’s cock.

Rocket thrusts forward on instinct, sliding through Kraglin’s fingers with a growl. He’s not sure when Kraglin got the lube, but it doesn’t matter because Kraglin’s holding his cock and pressing it right up against Yondu’s hole, and the heat from Yondu’s body is dizzying. 

Rocket pushes in.

He can hear Yondu groan, can feel Kraglin’s chest heaving against his back, but it’s all distant. Most of Rocket’s awareness is taken up with _hot_ and _tight_ and _wet_ and _Yondu._ Instinct takes over, and soon he’s jackhammering into Yondu with little feral growls.

The tip of his cock brushes something fleshy inside Yondu that makes him yell, and the way he clenches down has Rocket pulling out in a panic as he tries not to nut three seconds after he started.

“Shit,” he pants.

“Boy, don’chu quit just when it’s gettin’ good!” Yondu raises his head to stare at Rocket. “Come on,” he coaxes, “be a sweetheart an’ make it good for me.”

Rocket shudders and nods, squaring his shoulders before he slides back in. It feels better than he knew anything could, giving this to Yondu. He narrows his eyes in concentration and finds that spot again, the one that makes Yondu shake. Aims for it again, and again until Yondu’s making noises underneath him. He never knew he could feel so powerful just from this.

“There ya go,” Kraglin whispers. “Look at how his thighs are tremblin’.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Yondu pants, and he pushes back to meet Rocket’s thrusts.

Rocket’s gripping his thighs, leaving dark blue scratches all over them as he tries to pull Yondu back onto his cock. It doesn’t work, but Kraglin’s there, pressed behind Rocket and watching eagerly.

“ _Goddamn_ that’s hot,” he whispers. “He’s fuckin’ you so good, ain’t he Cap’n?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Yondu throws his head back, chest heaving. His cock’s hard and dripping, swaying with with force of Rocket’s thrusting, and his hand twitches toward it.

Rocket and Kraglin both snarl at the same time.

“Ah hell,” Yondu whines faintly, letting his hand fall where they can see it.

“Knew ya could do it,” Kraglin purrs. “Knew your cock would hit it just right. Feels good, don’t it, watchin’ him squirm?”

“Yeah.” Rocket pants, breathing through his mouth because he can _taste_ all the weird scents or pheromones or whatever in the air. It’s a little like being drunk, or high off the good shit he used to buy before he had Groot to ease the loneliness. It’s amazing, but he needs more. “Kraglin. Come on.”

Kraglin looks down at him. They stare at each other for a long moment, and then Kraglin says, “you’re gonna have t’ move then.”

So Rocket pulls out, petting Yondu’s knee when he groans unhappily. He considers the logistics of what they’re about to do. 

Kraglin seems to be doing the same thing; when Rocket catches his eye he quirks an eyebrow. 

It’s Yondu who groans and says, “Krags, get behind me an’ hold me open so he can get in there. An’ no bitchin’ if he stabs ya with his bony dick.”

Rocket looks down at said dick and frowns. Okay, so it’s not nearly as yielding as theirs are, but still. That’s the second comment they’ve made about it in one go.

“Thought you liked his bony dick, sir,” Kraglin grunts as he and Yondu shuffle their limbs into position.

Yondu leers at Rocket. “Never said I didn’t.”

Rocket swallows, something unpleasant dissipating in his chest. He crawls forward between Yondu’s spread thighs and can’t help but remember the first time they ever did this, how weird and exciting it was. It was great, that shivery feeling he got when he could please Yondu. This is the same way, and Rocket would be lying if he said he’s not a little nervous.

But Kraglin said it would work, so Rocket licks his lips and watches Kraglin push his gorgeous purple cock into Yondu, who’s loose and wet because of Rocket. His hands clench where he’s resting them on his thighs; the urge to get his nose in there, maybe lick at them both where they’re joined, is hard to resist. He’s done it before, and it’s reliably fun for everyone.

But he can’t forget how slick and hot it felt inside Yondu, and he wants it again. Wants Kraglin’s cock sliding against his while they drive Yondu insane. 

He ain’t used to wanting so much. 

He’s even less used to getting it.

After a few thrusts, when Kraglin’s in good and Yondu’s squirming on his dick, Yondu grunts, “c’mon, boy. Want you in me.”

Rocket’s eyes fly to Yondu’s face, and Yondu’s staring at him, eyes burning like he knows what Rocket’s thinking. 

And as Rocket lines up, careful—so careful not to hurt Kraglin—he doesn’t think he’s ever loved Yondu more.

It’s perfect.

Kraglin’s cock twitches where it’s snug against Rocket’s, both of them held inside Yondu. They take awhile to find a rhythm that works—Rocket does jab Kraglin’s dick once, but after some swearing and apologies, they work it out.

First Rocket will move, grinding slowly, torturously against Yondu’s prostate, and when he starts feeling like it’s too much he stills, and Kraglin will rock his hips, pushing into Yondu and rubbing at Rocket’s cock so sweetly.

Rocket wants to close his eyes and let the sensations take over, but he can’t look away from Yondu and Kraglin. They’re always beautiful when they fuck, but this is better than usual. Nobody’s left out like this. They’re all connected and feeling each other and Rocket would happily stay like this forever.

Of course, that’d be really impractical, and also Yondu can only stand having his prostate pounded for so long before he comes with a series of clicks and whines. Kraglin follows him with a hiss, bony hands digging hard into Yondu’s abused thighs.

Rocket’s fucking Kraglin’s come into Yondu, hot and wet, and the squelching sounds are pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He realizes he’s scent marking Yondu, and it’s that thought that sets him off. He snarls when he comes, an animalistic sound he don’t like to dwell on.

They collapse in a heap, rearranging themselves into the usual formation with Kraglin snug at Yondu’s back while Rocket curls into Yondu’s arms. 

Finally Yondu says, “if that’s the kinda shit you two come up with when I leave ya alone, I oughta go away more often.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” growls Kraglin. His arms tighten around Yondu’s waist, pushing a grunt out of Yondu.

“Okay, okay. Who knows what th’ fuck you’d do t’ my shit if I tried t’ go again.”

“Just don’t be such a douchebag about it next time you wanna go do some family bonding.” Rocket yawns. 

Yondu grunts, carding his fingers through Rocket’s fur. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

Kraglin yawns loudly. When Rocket looks at him he’s lazily rubbing his cheek on Yondu’s scarred shoulder. One of his hands brushes Rocket’s chest as he strokes it up and down Yondu’s belly.

And Yondu doesn’t even smack him away when he plays his fingers along the edge of his pouch, just sighs heavily. Pushes his ass back into Kraglin’s bony hips and hugs Rocket a little tighter.

Everything finally smells right, at least. There’s no trace of the Ravagers left on Yondu. Just Rocket and Kraglin and the smell of their come and sweat all marinating together.

Smells like home.

\---

To say Rocket wakes up in a good mood is an understatement. First thing he hears is two ungodly sets of snores, one wheezy and one that damn near rattles Yondu’s tacky toy collection off the headboard (Rocket hates those things; not only are they ugly as fuck, but Yondu makes him go fishing under the bed to get them back after they inevitably fall during sex). 

And okay, the top of his head is a little damp where Yondu drooled on him in his sleep, but he can fix that. He’s the one with the early shift again because Quill’s a lazy bastard, and so he wiggles out of Yondu’s arms and heads for the bathroom to get ready.

He’s about to head out the door when he notices a message blinking on his comm. His eyes almost bug out of his head when he checks it.

It’s from Stakar.

Rocket’s ears go back on instinct; he don’t like the guy, even if he’s glad Yondu has him back in his life. But the offer in front of him is pretty impressive nonetheless. 

“Hey Yondu? Kraglin?”

Years on the _Eclector_ made both of them light sleepers; the sound of their names has them sitting up. Kraglin sleepily scratches his chest hair as Yondu shows off his (still gross) teeth in a huge yawn.

“Whassat, Rocket?”

“Got a message here. Kraglin, you know how we wanted to expand the hanger for another M-ship?”

“Yeah?” Kraglin blinks at him.

Rocket hands over the comm unit. 

Kraglin squints at it and shifts to the side so Yondu can read along. They’re both quiet for a long time.

“He wants t’ bankroll a full overhaul o’ the Quadrant? That’s a hell of an apology,” Kraglin finally mutters. His mouth is turned down at the corners.

Yondu swallows. He doesn’t look at either of them, but Rocket can figure out what he won’t say.

“I might’ve let it slip we were pissed about his rushing in to play overprotective dad after leavin’ you in the lurch for twenty-five years,” he admits. 

“I never seen him apologize t’ no one but Aleta,” Yondu whispers. He stares at the message. “You better pass this t’ Quill.”

Rocket looks up at him. “I can do that,” he says slowly, “but you know he’s just gonna kick it back. This one’s your call, Yondu.”

Yondu cuts his eyes over to Kraglin. “You too proud t’ accept help if it comes from the Ninety-Nine?” he asks, and Rocket could kiss him.

Kraglin blinks, nonplussed. “I—” A slow smile spreads over his face. It’s not entirely pleasant. “I reckon they owe us, sir. Don’t ya think?”

“Oh, Stakar’s gonna be so sorry he ever wrote this,” says Rocket.

“Ah hell.” Yondu flops backward and throws a hand over his eyes. 

“I’m tellin’ the rest of ‘em t’ make a wish list,” Kraglin says happily. “If he’s offerin’ then we’re takin’.”

“Quill’s gonna shit himself.” Rocket can’t wait to tell him, if only to prove that he can fix stuff like this sometimes, instead of just breaking it.

“Best get goin’ then, Rat.” Yondu’s eyes dance when he grins at Rocket. “You gon’ make his day.”

Rocket scrambles onto the bed to slurp across Yondu’s mouth in a hasty, messy kiss. “Just don’t try to pretend this didn’t make yours.”

Yondu shoves him off the bed. “Brat. Get th’ hell outta here.” But he’s laughing, and so is Kraglin.

So Rocket goes, a spring in his step. Quill will be happy, Kraglin’s appeased, and Yondu’s got that soft, pleased look about him that Rocket doesn’t see too often. It matters, this kind of humility from Stakar, and it goes a long way toward improving Rocket’s opinion of the guy.

They still have plenty of enemies. There are worse things than having a huge fleet of Ravagers at your back. 

He hums to himself a little as he walks. It’s gonna be a good day.


End file.
